Paper Serviette Folding Instructions

STAR WESTERN



"mired in this your beautiful sea, the free world." PPP




The night has a unique name

Andrea Knoblock

tonight, thanks a bout of insomnia, I thought about the relationship between the man in the dark. The reason was the wood of thoughts that has crowded the mind preventing me from sleep, fast images that pawed drawing upon the deepest fears and ancestral memories of the child, until the concerns of the present and projections of the future. At night, especially if it is aided by a heavy rain that makes you feel balanced on nothing, is absurd in a space-time is the very negation of the world. Many people feel at ease in the night, the poets say I write better at night, people like Hassan TELEBISTA even light up "with the one that gives no light", the musicians know better than the day because the night - this is known - in the silence

notes resonate more resplendent, and those who love their sect is in the complicity of the night whispers more unmentionable. I, for my part, I have a bad relationship with the night. When I happen to open their eyes to not close again until the morning, I get to stay for hours, like a wild dog from the look distorted on the edge of this no man's land. My mind is reversed as a network that makes the fish, shows me his most mysterious aspect, the material that composes it becomes uncontrollable, and all that I can do is sit there to suffer from a kind of fever that makes child anguished all things in the world, even the most innocuous thoughts. So when you open up those black wings on me, I am seeking a hiding place, like a prey already smell of their blood nell'orlo eye, or as a sailor who is going to face a storm at sea. A nice phrase Elias Canetti says: "The days are distinct from each other, but the night has only one name." Perhaps they are simply programmed to dream, and oppression of a sleepless night for me is nothing more than signal a change occurred in my nature. Or maybe my thoughts are like planets in the dark they start looking for their turn in orbit, while during the day lie forever, contrary to the laws of the universe.

.

TELEBISTA Hassan, LIGHTING BUIA languages \u200b\u200bare illuminated by the ink
childhood
In the era of the writing on the sheets

run their secrets Then the voice them drown in their softness

seas light

funds

With their souls with the wishes

With their light against the truth

Creatures with bodies Mountains with the formation

What does not believe in what
In ignorance of the new Ice Age was
But the resurrection of light Returns the faith to unbelievers

way life feels his faith The nature is illuminated by the continuous forced

randomness of the violation of its rules! And I

enlighten me with what does not lume:

Con l’indice della morte
Con la peluria selvaggia sulle ascelle della ragazza
Nella nerezza dei raggi…

Mi assedia
Dai sei punti cardinali dell’amore!

O con la passione che si esaurisce

Prima di continuare!

Mi illumino con quello che non dà lume